


Fauna: Informal Studies and Field Notes

by TheYsabet



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: A Supporting Cast Of Five Argumentative Scientists - Freeform, Critters Of Nightvale, Goofiness, M/M, Nothing Even Vaguely Resembling Proper Field Note Format, thebookofnights' Partially Stars universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 06:35:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18773224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheYsabet/pseuds/TheYsabet
Summary: So: we've heard about the people of Night Vale, about its buildings, history, food and laws.  But what about the local animal population?  You KNOW they're around.  And they're watching you.A series of notes typed in on the fly through various scientists' cellphones, laptops and tablets, occasionally while being bandaged (the scientists, not the tech), written in the 'Partially Stars' universe by the wonderfully talented thebookofnights with her permission.





	Fauna: Informal Studies and Field Notes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thebookofnights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebookofnights/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Pretending to Sleep](https://archiveofourown.org/works/970183) by [thebookofnights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebookofnights/pseuds/thebookofnights). 



_Entries are by staff Halland, Dave; Hirsch, Eli; Kirk, Phil; Smithson, Marianne; Walters, RoChellele. NoteWise 2.3 (includes comments via NoteSpeak.)  
Field notes, not for publication._

Alligator (E. Hirsch) - Scaled-down but otherwise average members of _Alligator mississippiensis_ (so far as a desert-dwelling aquatic reptile with an average weight exceeding 80 pounds can be considered normal), local alligators are found inhabiting sewer systems and the ‘nameless depths below’ the town; what they eat and why they have not entirely been eradicated by their fellow sewer denizens is a puzzle, though it's given rise to some speculation as to why there aren't many graveyards and/or crematoriae around Night Vale. Figures. According to Palmer at the radio station they can kill children (no, really?) but at least one 'Vailigator' has been seen being walked on a leash, so they seem to be tameable. Possible lab security?  
_COMMENT: No, Eli, you can't have an alligator as a lab mascot. Do not. I mean it. --C.  
COMMENT: Aww. - Eli_

Artichoke Shrike (P. Kirk) - So called due to its olive green color and the adaptation of its feathers into fused, scale-like overlapping plates similar to those found on the _Sunda pangolin_ , this bird nests primarily in the most spiny and virulent cholla cacti, where its unusual attributes prevent even the sharpest needles from penetrating. A carrion-eater, it observes the same behavior as its non-desert relatives, hunting prey (small lizards mostly) and impaling them on the spines surrounding its narrow tunnel-shaped nest where it allows them to decay for two or three days. The shrike then picks the bones clean, allowing them to fall to the ground below and nourish their host cholla (soil tests ongoing, results positive for amended calciums content to date.)  
_COMMENT: Check into the local crop nutrient analytics records if they're online (do NOT try to get them from the Library, talk to John Peters, you know, the farmer.) --C.  
COMMENT: Yes, I know. – P. Kirk_

Bleb (R. Walters) - Tentacled invertebrates, able to modify their shape without apparent limit, multi-eyed and capable of changing colors and patterns much like octopi and squid, these shy creatures shun human company but have been seen occasionally seeking water from outside spigots or sprinklers. Very similar to the gel-like rubber toys with wiggly spikes found in some novelty shops, only with added eyes (which change in number depending on need); I haven't been able to locate any Night Vale residents who’ve actually interacted with a Bleb, so unfortunately my knowledge is limited to hearsay and really brief observations (no photos yet.)  
_COMMENT: .....you're SURE about these, Chelle? Eli, so help me if this is a prank I'm going to_  
(unfinished comment)  
_COMMENT: My apologies, Chelle, you're absolutely correct on all counts. --C._

Broadfinned Mudskipper (P. Kirk) - Similar in many ways to _Periophthalmus argentilineatus_ , the Barred Mudskipper of the African mudflats, this seems to be an introduced species that has adapted to the Night Vale region. Previous theories regarding accelerated evolution find a footing in this small creature; the fins have widened and extended until they are not unlike those of _Parexocoetus brachypterus_ , the Sailfin Flying Fish. As far as I have been able to ascertain, no-one has as yet witnessed the Broadfinned Mudskipper in flight, but I am assured rather ominously that it’s only a matter of time. Currently they are notable for their ability to walk on land and their annoying and alarming (at least to the newcomer, especially during late-night unplanned bathroom visits) tendency to be found inhabiting the toilets of Night Vale despite screens and valves designed to keep them out. Luckily, they do not seem to bite.  
_COMMENT: I have since learned that my last comment was woefully inaccurate and probably wishful thinking; so many things in Night Vale are. - P. Kirk_  
_COMMENT: Get that looked at, please. Yes, at the hospital; we need more data on their treatment protocols anyway. --C._  


* * *  
“Mister Kirk?”  


Glancing up from the outpatient clinic’s three-month-old copy of Newsweek, Phil bit back a sigh and stood. A little more rumpled than usual, the spareboned man gave the nurse a brusque nod as he followed her from the waiting room into a hallway decorated in the beige tile found in medical facilities across the world. At least this is normal, he thought sourly, accepting a paper gown and stepping into an exam room; in fact, the whole thing was reassuringly average. Oh, the paperwork had been a little odd, but this was Night Vale, and if the hardest thing he did today was to fill out a form that asked exactly how many hearts, kidneys, lungs, brains and spleens one happened to have upon checking in, the scientist would count himself lucky.  


The gown fit like most paper gowns—that is, it gapped and crunched in uncomfortable places and let in a worrying draft. Phil fidgeted and wished a little desperately for pants.  
* * *  


Cat (E. Hirsch) – Ordinary cats for the most part but with added sharp, thorn-like spikes along their backs and a really weird jaw arrangement that resembles what you'd get if a sea lamprey got knocked up by Garfield. Variations/possible mutations seem to be rife within the species (I think there's more than one, and I hope to God they don't all float); more samples are needed. Boss, what about a kitten? Bet we wouldn't have that mouse problem if we had a cat.  
_COMMENT: Maybe. Check the local craigslist, see if any are available. And ask if they float. --C._

Caustic Mouse (R. Walters) - Normal mice at first glance (except for the spiky tailtips), these rodents would normally be pretty unexceptional except for one little detail-- their urine and feces are highly acidic and will eat right through any non-metallic surface. Entire buildings have come apart at the foundations because of Caustic Mice infestations, according to the local pest-control people; the rodents have a tendency to dig "bathrooms" (chambers set aside for waste) in their burrows, and when one of these grows large enough it can cause a sort of sinkhole that will eat your house. Caustic Mice are hard to exterminate-- poisons don’t harm them; they’re usually killed or driven off by well-trained Secret Terriers and their handlers. Secret Terriers, seriously? That’s what the pest-control flyers said, though, along with ‘reasonable rates.’  
_COMMENT: Fecal tests can’t identify the acid variety, but it's not uraic acid. What the hell do these things eat? Setting live-traps in the alleyway behind Big Rico's._  
_COMMENT: Traps useless, apparently they CAN melt through metal if they really make an effort; little bastards peed all over the place and left through the holes. Will keep trying._  
_COMMENT: So far they can dissolve EVERYTHING. Plastic, cement, glass, wood, asphalt, ceramic, cardboard, everything. WTF are their kidneys made of? I going to catch one if it's the last thing I ever do, goddammit._  
_COMMENT: Well, fuck. Fucking OW. Blue dots to the sharptoothed little shitheads!_  
_COMMENT: Chelle, this is Night Vale, it probably would be the last thing you ever did. Let it go before you end up wearing a hook on one wrist, okay? Keep working on the fecal analysis and stop with the traps, the residue doesn't wash off; you and Eli need to haul them to the local landfill before it sets the storeroom's linoleum on fire. --C._

Clawed Raven (M. Smithson) - An ordinary raven in most respects, very similar in size and appearance to the Common Raven _(Corvus Corax)_ , this particularly Night Valean variety has small, vestigial digits at the radial joint of each wing. Upon close examination (the birds seem to be intelligent, social and are alarmingly good at cooperative foraging) it appears that the alula, the ‘thumb’ of a normal bird’s wing, has become polydactyl and mutated into three bijointed fingerlike structures that extend from the radial, complete with sharp talons. The similarity to a bat’s skeletal structure is unmistakable, and I am currently pursuing two theories, one of cross-species fertile reproduction (this is Night Vale) and one of ‘imitative’ adaptive evolution; both have disquieting connotations but the lack of a calcaneum and backwards-bending kneejoint of a bat makes me think the latter theory is more likely. Clawed Ravens are considered to be pests of the first order, as their digits allow them to grasp and make off with whatever takes their fancy (shiny objects in particular seem to have high value); oddly enough, while the locals might grumble about the “Clawies,” most of the more rural homes around Night Vale tend to have a small dish somewhere on the property line, perhaps topping a fencepost, where small metallic objects such as single earrings, scraps of chain, aluminum foil balls, pennies, etc., are left as blatant bribes and/or propitiatory offerings. These dishes are always nailed, screwed or glued down in order to keep them from being carried off all at once. Upon questioning this practice I was told rather sharply that “pissing off the Clawies isn’t a good idea. You want them on your side, right?”  
_COMMENT: Continued exploration of this species has produced evidence that they may have an actual distinct language consisting of at least two hundred words. As I've had coworkers whose vocabulary was less than that, I am seriously impressed and am making all sorts of plans to initiate contact. - Mare_  
_COMMENT: Be careful, okay? If I find out you've been abducted and are living in the scrublands as the Wild Desert Clawies Woman we're going to have our funding cut. One other thing, I'm told these birds tend to accompany hooded figures. Again, watch out. --C._

Common House Pterosaur (dwarf variety) (M. Smithson) - These miniscule remnants from the Cretaceous Period evoke a mixture of terror and an all-consuming desire to catch one and study it until my eyes cross. After two or three days of seeing them hanging upside-down off the occasional rain-gutter or clothesline, though, the terror fades and plans to build a trap start cluttering the margins of every available bit of scrap-paper until certain coworkers start to complain. After that, scientific inquiry must take a backseat to practicality... Moving along (sorry, guys.) Right. The Common House Pterosaur is a smaller variety (or so I am told by local informants) of the original Broadwinged Desert Pterosaur which inhabited this area and who withdrew into the sand wastes beyond Red Canyon when Night Vale’s population began to grow and their natural food, the foot-long Purple-banded Vale Cricket, dwindled in numbers. The currently dominant species subsists almost entirely on houseflies, Mesquite Beetles and geckos, and according to my downstairs neighbor’s second-grade daughter, they also like carrots. They are, I am also told (different source), monogamous, seem to be entirely diurnal, and have a thin downy coat of what looks to be tiny cream feathers darkening to a rich cobalt on the underbelly. Females are smaller than males and generally duller in color, shading more to slate; males have a crest of blue-gray feathers on their skulls. Nests are generally made of tightly-packed Western Mistletoe sprigs (unknown as to why that plant in particular) with an admixture of regurgitated mud used to glue the twigs together and support the clutch of four to six speckled cream eggs that are laid each spring. Local Night Vale citizens regard them as nothing more unusual that your average sparrow, and their raspy, trilling calls can be heard saluting (or protesting, possibly) every sunrise.  
_COMMENT: Good writeup, Mare. Glad you stopped the trapping attempts; check with Eli, I've ordered him to give up those photos he took of you laying in ambush or else. I'd suggest you try to obtain an egg during the next laying period, might be able to incubate it in the lab, talk to Phil. --C._  
_COMMENT: Will do. They’re cute little buggers, and did you know the local Audubon Society lists them as a bird species? Weird. - Mare_

Coyote (D. Halland) - _Canis latrans_. Mostly normal; the local coyote population varies little from the usual, except their fur seems to be colonized by a symbiotic phosphorescent algae. Haven't gotten a sample yet, but I'm told that this lime-green algae repels fleas, ticks and other parasites and in return benefits by absorbing sunlight when the coyotes sleep during the day. Have to say, watching a pack of glowing, ghastly-green coyotes run through the scrublands past my car isn't something I'll ever forget.  
_COMMENT: Ideas on sample retrieval? Without actually catching a coyote, that is? List below. --C._  
_COMMENT: Boss, we're going to have to catch one, just go with it. – Eli_  
_COMMENT: Gluetraps? To get a fur sample, I mean, not an entire coyote. Maybe near their lairs? Do we know where they lair? – Chelle_  
_COMMENT: I'm told by my contacts that shooting one is a bad idea, the pack will pick one of us off in retaliation. Dave, these may not be so “mostly normal” as you think. – Mare_  
_COMMENT: Mare, your contacts are mostly gossipy yokals at Big Rico's and the convenience store on Old Musk and First. Unreliable. We have tranq darts and a rifle, I have no issue regarding putting them to use. Can any of you shoot? - P. Kirk_  
_COMMENT: No, none of us can. Subject is tabled indefinitely. --C._

Granular Wash Snake (E. Hirsch) - This reptile is (thank God) a constrictor that feeds mostly on rodents, though it also thinks the three-inch long Ant Lions you find on the north side of the city (just the north. Why the north?) are pretty tasty. The snakes have a really amazing form of camouflage-- their skin secretes a gluey substance that they use by writhing in coarse sand and causing it to stick to every bit of their surface except for their eye-scales. They're nonvenomous but can cause some frickin' horrible abrasions to anyone who gets too close due to their tendency to hide by diving inside your goddamn clothes and refusing to come out. Luckily, lab coats come off very fast when you need them to. Jeans and t-shirts and underwear do NOT. Kudos to Dave and Chelle for helping me with that, BTW!  
_COMMENT: Told you it'd do that. Remember what I said about hoopsnakes? - Dave_  
_COMMENT: Dave, that's HOKUM. It's folklore, you know it is. - P. Kirk_  
_COMMENT: Yeah, but he was right, sort of. Now let’s forget it ever happened, okay? – Eli_  
_COMMENT: Fair enough. Get those abrasions looked at if you think they need it, your call. Points for taking Dave and Chelle with you, Eli. --C._  


* * *  
Dave Halland’s jaw dropped as he stared at his colleague; Eli was… well, he was doing… 

“Interpretive dance?” wondered Chelle, crossing her arms and watching with interest.

Eli said something in response that would have turned the air blue if they had been in Mission Grove Park (this was a thing that happened there) and, red-faced, flailed his arms around in a desperate effort to remove his sweatshirt. The curse was followed by a yelp and then a kind of high-pitched squeak (Chelle covered her mouth with one hand) as the intern simultaneously shimmied out of the shirt and popped the button on his fly.

Moments later, jeans around his knees and both shoes off, the curly-haired young man swore comprehensively as a small something that looked vaguely like a snake made out of graham-cracker crumbs hightailed it from a discarded sock for the nearest bushes. “Well, that was a thing,” murmured Dave, watching it go. “You okay, Eli?” Rochelle, helpless with laughter, sagged against the nearest wall and hugged her ribs.

From his seat on the ground, the intern hitched his boxers up with one thumb and pointed at them both. “Never. Speak of this—” (he panted) “—to me again.”  
* * *  


Greater Hooded Dune Ray (P. Kirk) - One specimen (incomplete, deceased) found; further research required-- see _Lesser Hooded Dune Ray._  
_COMMENT: Phil, any chance we can retrieve the skull? Wish I'd been with you when you found that. --C._

iCrab (E. Hirsch) - Small squarish creatures with shiny shells and a distinctive white torus marking on their backs, iCrabs apparently followed the same line of development as the Boss's tablet, gaining mobility/awareness/appetite along with a ton of triple-jointed legs, crayfish-like claws, glowing eyes like green LEDs and very sharp mandibles. Like most crabs they're opportunistic feeders and will eat an Arby's Roast Beef Combo #3 in a pinch; they live in colonies, tunneling deep into rare Night Valean lawns and xeriscapes like little mechanistic mole-crickets. They seem to be mute (pretty sure this is due to a lack of downloads) and are harmless to humans but can destroy a yard worse than ground-squirrels. As to their origin, I'm told that they began showing up in the early 1920’s following the wreck of a large truck on Highway 80 carrying crates of 4th-gen iPod Shuffles; pretty interesting when you know iPods weren't invented until 2001 and that particular model not until 2010. Til that happened, they were called 'crabroaches' but hey, people are adaptable. Boss, I want one kind of like -burning- but they're tough to catch; I have a plan of laying out a trail of chopped-up Arby's that may work, though.  
_COMMENT: Eli, if you catch one you have to feed it. AND keep it wherever it is you're sleeping at this week. --C._

Lesser Hooded Dune Ray (P. Kirk) – A frankly unbelievable creature which bears every resemblance to common Manta Rays except for their ability to breathe air, their lack of a need for an aquatic environment, their large, soulful eyes and the transparent membrane which slides up rather like a helmet to cover said eyes when the burrow into the soft, powdery sand which they favor. They are quite beautiful; their thick, smooth skin is opalescent tan in color and the sight of a pod of Dune Rays leaping from the dusty depths is a wonder of nature. They eat the tough twigs of manzanita, palo verde and mesquite and are curious and intelligent, readily approaching humans and nudging them for a scratch. That being said, their yard-long spiked tails carry a generous quantity of a neurotoxin very similar to that produced by the Brown Recluse spider but roughly twenty-three times more potent. This species is designated as 'Lesser' due to the remains of a related but much, much larger species found several months ago. As the Greater Hooded Dune Ray (the remains of which were roughly the size of a Ford F250 truck and weighed in excess of 2700 pounds) had been torn in half and partially devoured, it was not possible to ascertain what had killed it. Whatever it was, though, it was obviously disturbingly larger than its prey.  
_COMMENT: Nice to see you appreciate something local as 'beautiful.' - Mare_  
_COMMENT: Thank you. I think. - P. Kirk_  
_COMMENT: They sell postcards with these on them down at the convenience store on Old Musk, you know that? - Dave_  
_COMMENT: Which ones, Gr or Ls? - P. Kirk_  
_COMMENT: Lesser. Nice pics, whoever took them. There is one postcard with a live Greater on it, though! - Dave_  
_COMMENT: See if you can find out who took the shot, please; finding a live Greater specimen would be optimum. --C._

Mucus Wasps (R. Walters) – Diiiiiisgusting. And they sting. Just wanted to say that first. Similar to the Cuckoo Wasp (family _Chrysididae)_ and iridescent mauve in color, actually kind of pretty for hideous stinging monsters; otherwise, their only notable characteristic is that they build their nests by chewing the resin of mesquite trees, extracting nourishment from the gum, and then spitting the viscid remnants out to build the cells of their colonies. Said colonies tend to strongly resemble gluey, dripping masses of decaying waffles and have a powerful scent horribly similar to WD-40. Once again? Really disgusting. I know I'm the newbie, but DAMN. I hate wasps. And the smell of WD-40.  
_COMMENT: No, Chelle, tell us how you -really- feel! - Dave_  
_COMMENT: Guys, seriously, WD-40 makes me bazooka-barf. And I DID barf. I may barf again, possibly on somebody's shoes. Please remember this. - Chelle_  
_COMMENT: Noted. Sincerely sorry. --C._

North American Death Worm (D. Halland) – Oh my God, this is just... Okay, right, professionalism. Similar to the mythological (supposedly, though at this point, who knows?) Mongolian Death Worm, the _olgoi-khorkhoi_ , this creature resembles an extremely large dark red earthworm with oversized mandibles, and yes, I -KNOW- earthworms don't have mandibles. Rare sightings of these dangerous creatures show them as reaching roughly three meters in length at maturity; they are rumored to be able to spit an acid so corrosive it can dissolve steel. I have witnessed only the tip of one of these vanishing beneath the base of a derelict building, but photos exist in a photo album belonging to Rosie Steinmeier, waitress at the Moonlight All-Night Diner. I SAW ONE, THOUGH. Even if it was just the tip!  
_COMMENT: That's what SHE said! – Eli_  


* * *  
“I think we’re going to have to hold an Intervention,” said Marianne calmly, popping the cap on her grape soda and slumping in her folding chair without taking a drink; the bubbles from the soda popped in the silence, a tiny sound punctuated by Dave Halland’s snores.

Across the scratched breakroom table, Chelle poked a fork into her Cup Ramen and made a face at the squish of noodles and dehydrated vegetables. “We all got our obsessions. At least Dave’s is pretty harmless.”

Mare blew a coppery strand of hair away from one cheek. “Chelle, he’s been stalking something that even the locals call a ‘Death Worm.’ All things considered, I don’t think that’s harmless. And he hasn’t slept in what, two days?”

The snores snagged, tore, and subsided. “…three,” came from the corner in a raspy mutter. “’lmost. I c’n do it.” 

Chelle eyed the other scientist sidelong. “MASH can do it. Eli’s in training to do it. You’ve obviously been nominated as Voice Of Reason Number Two in this group, so no—you can’t do it.” She took a bite of her noodles, grimaced again, and lobbed the paper cup neatly into the trash. “Set up your cameras on motion-sensing mode and go to bed, okay? You’re making me tired just looking at you.” Dave mumbled something that was probably supposed to be an affirmative and closed his eyes again.

Marianne blinked. “Who’s Voice Of Reason Number One?” Rochelle just looked at her. “Oh. It’s me, isn’t it?” This did not require an answer.  
* * *  


~~Palmer, Cecil (E. Hirsch) - _Palmer nightvaleus_ , this one-of-a-kind (we hope) male seems to mostly frequent the local radio station and its environs but forages for sustenance at Big Rico's Pizza, the local Ralph's, Arby's, and occasionally in a little deli on Fourth that doesn't seem to have a name. With dark head-markings shading to light and some very unusual skin patterns, the thing you usually notice first are the unique, admittedly attractive calls it emits, especially when in the region of a possible mate or when a microphone is nearby. Mating habits haven't been observed yet but we have hopes that this wi~~  
(unfinished entry)  
_COMMENT: Not FUNNY, Eli. If I find out you've been trailing me and recording data points, I'm confiscating every one of your remaining cans of Jolt and Monster. And you know they don't sell energy drinks out here due to religious reasons. --C._  
_COMMENT: Right. Sorry, Boss. Please don’t take my e-drinks, my head’ll combust. – Eli_  
_COMMENT: Then behave. –C._  
_COMMENT: Behaving, gotcha. Totally, totally behaving. Wow. - Eli_

Pigeon (M. Smithson) - Normal, everyday _Columba livia_ , with the same habits and numbers of common city pigeons except that they seem a little bigger than usual. And their beaks are hooked ever so slightly and look oddly sharp. And they congregate in groups of seven, never more and never less, and watch people going by-- their heads turn, they watch in silence, and I have noticed families in Grove Park laughing and feeding them scraps of dried meat. Maybe a carnivorous subspecies? ...okay, NOT normal, then. Only to be expected here, I guess.  
_COMMENT: Mare here again. I bought some jerky from the Ralph's and threw it to some of the pigeons, and holy shit, FEEDING FRENZY. It was pretty terrifying. Yeah, 'carnivorous subspecies' was a good guess, since they ignored the bread I threw. Watch out for the pigeons, guys._

Polyparrot (D. Halland) - Not a common species in Night Vale but found nesting occasionally in small colonies under the eaves of deserted outbuildings or ruins. Pretty sure they're omnivores, they live on mesquite beans, prickly-pear fruit, insects (they seem to prefer cicadas), arachnids and whatever they can scavenge. Main body color of adult males usually runs to deep, sandy oranges with olive barring in the wings and tails (mature females are paler and shade more towards peach); roughly the size of a Nanday Conure _(nandeyus nendey)_ , both sex’s heads are heavily capped in black. Standard for parrots, they're natural mimics but these little guys have the peculiar trait of speaking the nearest person’s unspoken thoughts... so the local teenagers call them ‘breakup birds’ for fairly obvious reasons. Glad they weren't around where I grew up.  
_COMMENT: Aww, was teenage Dave a player? I bet he was. - Eli_  
_COMMENT: Not saying. - Dave_  
_COMMENT: Think we could send a few to the White House? - Chelle_  
_COMMENT: :) - Mare_  
_COMMENT: I wish. --C._

Saguaro Bat (R. Walters) - Very like the Lesser Long-nosed Bat but much smaller in size (yeah, I know about bats, I like bats), this looks to be a local adaptation; the bats feed on nectar and fruit from Saguaros and prefer to roost among the spines and branching arms . Nature (or something) has provided really decent camouflage by turning their fur to a soft olive green that can hardly be seen against their host cacti. Saguaro Bats are harmless and do a lot of good, actually, since they eat an enormous amount of mosquitos every evening.  
_COMMENT: Chelle, do you have a thing against bugs? ASKING FOR A FRIEND. - Eli_  
_COMMENT: Go kiss a hooded figure, Eli. - Chelle_  
_COMMENT: Children, behave. P. Kirk_

Scorpion (D. Halland) – Almost normal, so close… just, I talked to some Boy scouts out in the vacant lot over behind the hardware store and they found me a few under some rocks and in a tree, and Night Vale scorpions have wing-cases. They FLY. Flying scorpions. I’m moving back to Jersey, DO NOT WANT.  
_COMMENT: I’m moving too. Maybe to Alaska or Tibet or somewhere else far away, ‘cause the world doesn’t need another fucking flying stinging bug. – Chelle_

Sidewalk Hooded Electric Skate (M. Smithson) - A smaller urban relative of the Lesser Hooded Dune Ray, gray-white in color, roughly surfaced and about 12” across at full growth. How do I know this? Because you can buy them down at Sahar's Desert Pets on Smoke Ave, along with little booklets about their care. An obvious adaptation to man-made materials (which adds to the theory of imposed evolution that Phil's working on), you can find these little guys throughout Night Vale but not at all in the surrounding desert. Sidewalk Skates are capable of producing a mild electric shock if stepped on but are non-venomous; in fact these herbivores are sometimes kept as pets by local children. I am assured that they are harmless, docile and considered to be about as dangerous as your average guinea-pig.  
_COMMENT: Did you buy one at the pet store, Mare? Please tell me you didn't. --C._  
_COMMENT: I did not buy one at the pet store. Or anywhere else. And nobody gave me one, and I didn't find one on my doorstep, and one didn't follow me home. - Mare_  
_COMMENT: Eli caught one and locked it in your bedroom, didn't he. --C._  
_COMMENT: He did. I let it out. And then I gave it to the little girl who lives two doors down. - Mare_  
_COMMENT: Thank God. Why am I always playing Pet Control Officer? --C._  
_COMMENT: I was going to name it Shelby. - Mare_  
_COMMENT: ....... --C._  
_COMMENT: Really sorry, Mare. - Eli_

Smokewing (R. Walters) – Finally, something cute! A small hummingbird, kind of plain, grayish tan in color with white stippling and not particularly impressive... except that sunlight makes one catch on fire if it stays in it long enough. WTF, Evolution? Darwin would lose all respect for his finches if he saw these things. Actually, though, what burns is an oil that constantly beads up from the feathers; moisture's deadly to a Smokewing, so they only live in desert regions. A good thing, too, since living in greener areas would make them a Big Time fire hazard. Why they don't cook when they burst into flame is a mystery, but as soon as they fly into shadow the flames go out. Weird, but good design. They are, as one might expect, primarily nectar-feeders though they can and will compete with the the local bats for moths. Fwoosh! Hey, Dave? Phoenix myths? You’re the cryptids expert here.  
_COMMENT: Could be. Kind of short for a stormtrooper but… maybe a larger species in the past? – Dave_  
_COMMENT: Nice reporting, Chelle. --C._  
_COMMENT: Thanks; made up for the wasps. I'm hanging out a feeder next to my window tomorrow. Eli, if you catch one you can lock it in -my- room. Just close the blinds first, okay? – Chelle_  


__

* * *  
The tiny dun bird perched at the very top of the worn stone statue, totally ignoring the slightly non-Euclidean nature of the carvings in order to stare down the sunrise. It might have been mistaken for a particularly small sparrow except for its delicately elongated beak—that gave it away, as did the quick, flickering movements of its head as it cocked it to one side and peered down at the woman waiting silently below.

With the first whispers of sunrise it was up in the air; today’s daybreak was almost musical for a change, a rising cacophony of shattering glass too fragile to bear the weight of light, of air, and the minuscule bird darted down and out to meet the dawn in a feathery rush.

FWOOSH!

Rochelle Walters watched it rocket into the light, matching the rays with its own blaze of fire. “Bye,” she whispered, and followed the spark with her eyes until she could no longer see it before gathering up her notes and heading home.  
* * *  


Southwestern Juniper Octopus (E. Hirsch) – I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MY WHOLE LIFE. SERIOUSLY. The mythical Pacific Northwest Tree Octopus _(Octopus paxarbolis)_ does most likely exist! The local variety's pretty damn similar to what supposedly slithers among the trees of the Olympic Mountain Range, amIright? Future research is needed, lots and lots of future research, and CAPTURE. Boss, don't tell me no, I won't be able to stand it. If it makes you feel better I can totally verify that all those rumors of the Northwestern ones dropping onto people's heads are true for the local species. Pretty freaking disturbing, gotta say, and I now have a reeeeally tactile understanding of the word “squicky” as well as the phrase “scream like a little girl.”  
_COMMENT: We know, Eli. We all heard you. And... okay, go for it. Even I have my limits. --C._  
_COMMENT: Totally jealous here, Hirsch. Need help? – Dave_  
_COMMENT: Sure, do we have nets? I think we have nets. WE NEED NETS. OMG THIS IS GOING TO BE SO GREAT. - Eli_

The Thing That Lives Beneath the Manholes (D. Halland) - Amorphous and resembling _Fungo septica_ (‘dog vomit slime mold’) except for its size (unable to be determined with absolute accuracy but certainly at least several yards across) and its color (dark pink), this unclassified species seems to be modeled on the man-eating amoebic entity first seen in the Paramount production, The Blob (1958.) ‘Modeled’ is accurate, as I am reliably told by local residents that these creatures did not occur within Night Vale prior to the movie’s debut (to quote you, Chelle, WTF?) They're highly dangerous; their touch is corrosive, they move with alarming speed and they seem to take delight in swallowing screaming citizens. No tissue samples have as yet been obtained and, with any luck, none will be. Sorry, Carlos, but... yeah.  
_COMMENT: Wimp. - Eli_  
_COMMENT: Hush, Eli. And no, do NOT go after samples-- absolutely no spelunking. Swear it. --C._  
_COMMENT: Fiiiiiine... I swear by Nikola Tesla, Marie Curie and Charles Fort that I will not go after samples from the Blob. - Eli_  
_COMMENT: Not the Blob, Eli, from the Thing That Lives Beneath The Manholes. --C._  
_COMMENT: Sure. - Eli_

Tumblebleeds (P. Kirk) - Extremely large, long-legged gray/tan spiderlike insects with twelve legs and thorny carapaces. During mating season large numbers of these arachnids will surround a single female and form a sort of lightweight ball around her composed mostly of their 6-inch-long legs. This, along with their propensity to bite, gives them their names; Tumblebleed bites can sever human fingers.  
_COMMENT: What IS it with this town? Twelve legs? It's not the things that are totally bizarre that bother me, it's the things that are almost normal. Why twelve legs? – P. Kirk_  
_COMMENT: Living slime doesn't bother you, glowing coyotes don't bother you, but extra legs do? - Dave_  
_COMMENT: There are several species of spiders that form mating balls. Even the Harvestman, though not really a spider, forms groups for protection. But they don't have twelve legs! - P. Kirk_  
_COMMENT: Let him be, Dave. Tumblebleeds freaked me out the first time I saw them too, and I didn't nearly lose a finger. --C._  
_COMMENT: Right. Sorry, man. We all have our buttons, and Night Vale pushes them sooner or later. We just have to cope. – Dave_  
_COMMENT: Or in Carlos' case, -appreciate.- Some of us are lucky enough to have somebody who -wants- to push our buttons... - Eli_  
_COMMENT: ELI. --C._  
_COMMENT: Not sorry, Boss. :D - Eli_  


* * *  
From the sidewalk outside the Arby’s, Night Vale’s one and only non-mediacentric intern studied the scene several yards away, a single brow slowly rising. 

The two figures asleep in Carlos’ red Prius were slumped together in the front seat, not so much leaning on one another as folded into interlocked angles like a piece of eight-limbed origami. There was a chin, and there was a shoulder, and there was a pair of glasses perched halfway up a nose; and when they happened to wake up, somebody was bound to bonk the other person right in the sternum—Eli wasn’t sure which one’d do it, but it would happen.  


That was okay, though. He wouldn’t wake them for the world (or, well, not unless it was ending, at least.)

The lights above the Arby’s had dimmed to translucent soap-bubbles by now, just pastel ghosts of their night-time glory; any attempts at collecting data with the array of lenses resting on the Prius’ dashboard would’ve been wasted anyway, so it was just as well that they were getting some shuteye, right? It wasn’t like the Boss ever got enough. Eli tugged his phone out of one pocket, checking the time; there was still a little more than an hour to go before sunrise (theoretically, at least), so why bother them? Let them carry out their own investigations; they didn’t need any help from him, Eli was pretty sure.

He raised the phone.

**click**

In the car, one eye opened, blinking twice before focusing on the intern; it widened a bit, then narrowed. Grinning, Eli made the classic zipped-lips gesture across his own mouth before raising the phone again.

**click**  
**clickclick**

The eye closed and Cecil settled back down again, lips pressed against his scientist’s collar, a little secret smile hidden in the shadows of Carlos’ jaw.

**end**

**Author's Note:**

> You know how it is: You read a series and it utterly replaces the original in your head, and *then* you just have to play in it a bit yourself. A thousand thanks to thebookofnights for giving me so much enjoyment-- I can't wait for the next bit!


End file.
